


It Is Good

by bloodyfandom



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:18:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyfandom/pseuds/bloodyfandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Gibbs needs a little reminder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Is Good

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine showed me the design for a tattoo she will be getting and I liked it so much I wrote a fic! LOL! I got the creole and translation for the tattoo from her and her tattoo design.

Tony traces his fingers over Gibbs' lower back, a faint, amused smile pulling at his mouth.  
  
“Gibbs?”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“When did you get a tattoo?”  
  
Gibbs shifts a little, drawing in a quick, deep breath as he turns his head towards Tony.  
  
“...'member when we went to Mardi Gras with Abby?” he mutters sleepily.  
  
With a broad grin, Tony nods, eyebrows waggling.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, voice rough and deep.  
  
“How many beads did you get again?” Gibbs smirks softly, knowing it's a source of pride for Tony.  
  
“Only about a hundred or so.”  
  
“You ever gonna get rid of those?”  
  
“Probably not. They'll console me when I'm old and wrinkly.”  
  
Gibbs laughs quietly, body shaking slightly with mirth.  
  
“You remember when we got separated for a few hours and when you found us I was shit-faced drunk and Abby was wearing a shit-eating grin?”  
  
“And not much else?”  
  
That makes Gibbs mumble something but he nods.  
  
“I remember,” Tony grins.  
  
“Right after we got separated she took me past this little bar and challenged me to a drinking contest.”  
  
“Ooo...” Tony laughs, wincing.  
  
“Figured I'd win,” Gibbs says with a hint of annoyed acceptance.  
  
“I think we've all made that mistake except Ducky and Palmer. Palmer only dodged the bullet because Ducky warned him.”  
  
“Coulda warned _me_.”  
  
“Probably figured you'd be too damn stubborn to listen.”  
  
Gibbs snorts, “Probably right. Damn that girl can drink though. Once we got to the jello shots I was a goner.”  
  
Tony pats his back and manages to restrain his laughter.  
  
“Took me to a little tattoo parlour after that and by the time they'd finished and I'd sobered up a little, I realized what the hell I'd just done and I needed another drink. Fifteen minutes later we found you half-naked with that uh...”  
  
“Massage therapist,” Tony sighs with a huge grin.  
  
Gibbs growls softly.  
  
“You and I weren't together then,” Tony points out reasonably.  
  
That gets Tony grumbling acquiescence but it takes a few kisses to Gibbs' shoulder and neck before Gibbs relaxes fully again. He doesn't get unreasonably jealous but his occasional 'moments' don't bother Tony so much as please him.  
  
“So...it's not English,” Tony observes  
  
“Creole.”  
  
With a casualness Gibbs knows is fake, Tony asks, “What's it mean?”  
  
“C'est si bon,” Gibbs shifts again, “It is good.”  
  
For a few minutes Tony's silent as he traces the scrawling cursive lettering with lazy fingers. Gibbs starts drifting, dozing lightly until he feels lube trickle down between his ass cheeks, followed by those wicked fingers. His body is still loose - relaxed and sated from the night before - and he just spreads his legs a little, giving Tony access to what he wants.  
  
It's not surprising that he hadn't noticed the tattoo before now. At the beginning of their relationship Tony had bottomed – quite happily – and even when they'd started switching off they didn't often manage to get fully undressed during their couplings. Gibbs' thoughts flicker between the sensations Tony is causing and old memories.  
  
*  
  
He remembers the next day, clutching his aching skull and more than annoyed by the buzzing ache in his lower back as he snarled at Abby who was still wearing little more than glorified underwear. She'd stood her ground though, gently resting her hand on the bandages covering his new tattoo.  
  
“Gibbs,” she'd said, “you know I want you to be happy, right?”  
  
He had frowned at that, “Yeah, Abbs, I know.”  
  
“Well, I want you to remember all the time...because sometimes you're just...you're so unhappy Gibbs and I know there are some things that...that can't be fixed. You'll always be sad about those things...”  
  
“Abby...”  
  
“But there are so many other things, Gibbs...you just take stuff too seriously and you don't let yourself have what you need much less what you want! And I need you to remember that life's not bad. I mean, it's not perfect but it's not bad either and you only get to have it once and I can't stand it when you're sad and angry so much and this is the only chance you get to be happy!”  
  
There were tears in her eyes then and Gibbs had to hug her because she only ever meant well.  
  
“I need you to remember to try to be happy,” she had plead.  
  
Tony had stumbled back in to their hotel room then, grinning broadly, smelling like sex and massage oil and still drunk. He all but collapsed into their arms, hugging them fiercely.  
  
“I love you guys.”  
  
And Gibbs had to laugh, sandwiched between them, Abby in his lap with his arm around her shoulders and his face half-smushed against Tony's chest with his arm around Tony's waist as life continued on despite him.  
  
*  
  
Now there's a building pleasure in a part of him that he'd never let anybody but a doctor touch before a year ago – Tony's long fingers teasing him open and just plain teasing him. He still feels sleep muffling everything, like a thick blanket and he can't quite react, doesn't really feel the need to do more than lie there and take it - _enjoy it_ \- anyway.  
  
When Tony rolls over on top of him, grabs his hands to lace their fingers together and hold Gibbs down, lining up and pushing in Gibbs only makes a noise of satisfaction.  
  
Tony kisses the back of his neck, thrusting steadily. He's keeping it shallow and fast, stimulating all the delicious nerves without hitting on anything explosive. Every once in a while he goes deep and hard, pounding into Gibbs for a minute – _God_ , he loves that – before resuming his previous fast, shallow rhythm.  
  
Gibbs makes a noise of protest when Tony pulls out completely to add more lube but groans loudly when Tony drives back in with one long, sharp thrust, bottoming out quickly.  
  
It's all building to a fine pitch, his mouth slack, eyes clenched shut, brow furrowed as the pleasure slowly overwhelms him stroke by stroke.  
  
There are noises in his ears that he knows are coming from his own throat but they sound foreign to him, unlike himself and he's too wracked with sensation, too consumed by what Tony's doing to him to rein himself in.  
  
Tony pauses to help Gibbs tuck his legs up under himself, not quite on his knees but better elevated for what Tony wants to do to him.  
  
“Tony...God, Tony...come on...please...”  
  
There, the change of the angle, the loving mercilessness as Tony nails his prostate until he's cumming all over himself and the sheets. He squeezes Tony's fingers hard, shaky groan stuttering past his teeth and lips into the electric air. Tony keeps on, drawing it out for him, wrecking Gibbs with pleasure.  
  
So good, too much, never enough.  
  
His mind stutters, like his breath in his throat, like the noises in his mouth, like his heart in his chest when Tony kisses him.  
  
*  
  
Sometimes Abby rests a hand on the small of his back and looks up at him with wide eyes that hold a caring and wisdom she doesn't often let show. Her life hasn't been all rainbow socks and grinning skulls – he knows that better than anyone. That touch, that caring, that unquestioning love all serve to remind him that this is his only chance. He's promised not to waste it.  
  
He's come to love that feeling of being stretched and filled, Tony's hot, hard dick inside of him. The feeling afterward – of being empty – he doesn't like. He immediately wants Tony back, wants that empty feeling gone because it reminds him of too many other empty feelings. But then Tony has gotten good at filling up all the spaces inside of Gibbs. Tony's always kissing, touching, laughing, talking. He leaves no room, no space. He fills everything.  
  
*  
  
Tony pulls Gibbs back against his chest and it's a struggle to keep himself upright when he feels so boneless but their fingers are still laced together, pressed against Gibbs' chest as Tony keeps driving into him, keeps nailing his prostate hard until another orgasm tears through him.  
  
The pulsing warmth of Tony's orgasm fills him, strangely satisfying spurts of heat. As they sag against each other he tilts his head back and Tony kisses him, lazy and sweet. He'll feel the pleasant ache of their lovemaking for the rest of the day and that makes him smile. He'll have the pleasure of secret, shared looks and glancing touches as well. He'll get knowing glances from Abby and approving nods from Ducky and curious smirks from Ziva – bless his heart McGee is always oblivious - but only he and Tony will know what has him in such a good mood.  
  
Two orgasms in one morning and three in twenty-four hours. Not bad for a guy his age.  
  
C'est si bon. It is good.


	2. Tramp Stamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little early morning conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by _thelostcity over on LJ.

Tony is rubbing at the back of his neck, blinking grit out of his eyes as he scowls at the sludge Gibbs tries to pass off as coffee. The man is annoyingly awake this morning, smirking around the kitchen in his low slung boxers as Tony trudges around tiredly, trying to shrug off the last three days of little sleep and too much work. Which is why he thinks it's really a miracle that he even thinks of it at all, even if it takes him ten whole minutes to completely form the thought.  
  
The grin spreads slowly across his face as he watches Gibbs' backside, eyes sweeping over his body from head to toe. Tony strides up to him and slaps his ass, grin widening when Gibbs jumps and whirls on him with a faintly annoyed glare.  
  
"Just thought of something," Tony says, getting right to it.  
  
"Should I be impressed?"  
  
Tony ignores that and presses on, "You know what a tattoo on your lower back is called?"  
  
For a second Gibbs only scowls at him in that way that says 'of course I do, I know everything' until finally he shakes his head with growing annoyance.  
  
"A tramp stamp."  
  
The raised eyebrow, the almost too fractional - blink and you'll miss it - widening of Gibbs' eyes and then the patented glare.  
  
"Tramp stamp?" Gibbs repeats, emphasizing each word dangerously.  
  
"Yeah, Gibbs," Tony nods, grin still firmly in place, "Abby got you a tramp stamp."  
  
"Bet you think that's funny, don't you?"  
  
"Hilarious," Tony enunciates, "and I bet Abby does too."  
  
If he's getting in trouble then she is too damn it.  
  
For exactly one entire minute Tony thinks that Gibbs is going to lose his temper. His face gets red and his mouth presses into a thin line and then suddenly he's grinning in that way he does when he's about to make someone pee their pants with fear. Tony stands his ground, still grinning.  
  
"So does that make me your whore, Tony?" Gibbs asks, voice low and husky.  
  
 _Really?_ Tony thinks, _what do you think I am, new?_  
  
Tony kisses his cheek, taking his life into his hands, "Well, when I started sleeping with you, Gibbs, in a way you were a virgin. You think I've debauched you that much? I mean I know I'm a bad influence and everything but I haven't noticed you sleeping around. I'm pretty observant about that kind of thing."  
  
A flicker of amusement passes through Gibbs' eyes but he still looks pissed.  
  
"Pretty sure I've been faithful though some days I'm not sure why."  
  
"Because you totally love me," Tony shrugs, "anyway, I wasn't saying you're a tramp. Just that that's what a tattoo like yours is called."  
  
Gibbs' glare ratchets down a notch or two and his mouth quirks up on one side.  
  
Placation of the ego achieved. Ten points for DiNozzo.  
  
Gibbs pulls Tony down for a kiss, the taste of coffee and the lingering bite of toothpaste sweeping into Tony's mouth with Gibbs' tongue. He leaves Tony breathless, mouth kiss swollen and red.  
  
"So what do they call a tattoo on your ass?" Gibbs asks and walks away.  
  
Tony blinks after him.  
  
 _Shit,_ he thinks, _I can never drink again._


End file.
